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#i want to write something for this :^(
inkskinned · 9 months
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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lazylittledragon · 5 months
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made a sticker for anyone to slap onto their work if they need to
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elodieunderglass · 7 months
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changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.
I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.
Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.
No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.
But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?
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blinkpen · 1 month
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what if i decided i'm straight up not posting any new art publicly until that family's GFM in my pinned is at least Halfway to its goal
(even half my followers donating 5 bucks each would do that btw)
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littlelightfish · 28 days
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This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.
Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.
Idk, I love this man so much...
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ronanlynchbf · 8 months
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tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY
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hailsatanacab · 5 months
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Family Dinners - dpxdc
"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.
The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.
"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.
"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.
"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."
Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.
Ancients, that's so weird!
The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.
Wait. Family dinners?
He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.
"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.
From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.
"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"
"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"
"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."
"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.
Come on, Danny, recover!
"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?
"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."
"Costume? What do you mean?"
Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.
"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!
"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.
"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.
His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.
"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.
Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"
"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"
"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."
"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.
It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.
It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.
Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.
"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."
Once again, the whole table falls into silence.
"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"
"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"
"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."
Danny's grin freezes in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."
"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"
Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.
"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.
"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."
An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.
"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.
"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."
"What did happen?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."
"How long in the future was it?"
"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.
Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"
"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."
"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."
"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"
"What?"
"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."
Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.
"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.
"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."
"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"
"Damian, stop—"
"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."
"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."
"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.
"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."
"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."
"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."
"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."
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gay-impressionist · 10 months
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france is burning.
667 people were arrested last night. they are curfews in place. public transport is partially closed at night.
nahel, a 17-year-old, was shot tuesday by the police during a traffic stop. he wasn't violent or armed, he wasn't a threat. but he broke the law and tried to drive away, so the cops killed him.
and now france is rioting.
there is a video so the government isn't trying to deny the facts for once. but the minister of the interior (in charge of the police) still insist that the police shot less people since the 2017 law on public safety.
but an analysis of police statistics by Le Monde, the most read newspaper in france, says otherwise. when the police shot on average 250 people each year in the five years prior to 2017, that number became 297 after 2017. for shots fired specifically on moving vehicles, the average used to be 119 and it's now 150. before 2017, there was an average of 0.06 deaths per shot. now it's 0.32.
more than ever, the police shoots to kill.
so france is burning.
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nikoisme · 15 days
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The constant temptation and promise of everything and nothing in the odyssey. The sirens promise odysseus to know, and the lotus eaters promise him to forget. He could be an immortal, and he could be a beggar. Be known, and be a stranger. He could be alive, and he could be dead. He could be odysseus, and he could be nobody. And the man of many ways tries to be a little bit of everything.
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originalartblog · 9 months
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Tiny skk adventures!
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not like they're also cranky and tired and touch-starved
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ashes-in-a-jar · 2 months
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I'm choosing to ignore the theory that they are putting up a front, only being business partners with similar goals and knowing way more than it appears
I choose to believe this is what Gerry is like when brought up in a good home
I choose to believe Gertrude Robinson is a good parent
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shibaraki · 8 months
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please write your reader insert however you want to. unabashedly!! write fat reader. black reader. asexual. masculine. tall. trans. disabled. you’re allowed to see yourself reflected in these spaces!!! sometimes your fic won’t be for everyone—it will be for all the people who look, think, love and experience life the way you do and that’s ok! it’s wonderful, actually.
it is not your job to make sure the shoe comfortably fits every single person out there. your only job is to tag it, and if anyone tells you otherwise I’ll personally come out swinging lol
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jvlianbashir · 1 month
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"the creator said in a reddit thread -" "the official twitter account posted that -" "the actors confirmed in a livestream that -"
i don't care and that's not real to me. put it in the text.
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givemebackmypills · 2 months
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kamaluhkhan · 4 months
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anti-curse
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pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo!reader
summary: whether he knew it or not, percy jackson made the world a better, brighter place — and you intend to protect him, no matter what path the fates leads you down. fuck prophetic dreams. the future wasn't written in stone.
warnings/disclaimers: mentions of typical demigod things (battles, weapons, etc.); this is set during the heroes of olympus series so roughly follows that plot + features the seven demigods; mainly inspired by book!percy (dark hair, sea green eyes) bc that's the one i fell in love w growing up; characters are aged up from the book (reader + percy are meant to be 21-22 y/o) bc i imagine there was more time between prophecies/series....anyways, please enjoy <3
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when you first met percy jackson, he almost shot you through the chest with an arrow.
given that apollo is your godly parent, you often found yourself at the archery field, which happened to be one of the first stops on percy’s tour of camp half-blood. after that first mishap, your other half-siblings were, understandably, too scared to let percy try again — frankly chiron seemed a bit hesitant as well — and you could sense that percy felt disheartened. so, you flashed the boy a reassuring smile before giving him a few pointers and a second chance. when he smiled back at you, you felt a fluttering in your stomach that told you percy jackson would be more than a little important in your life.
archery still wasn't percy's strong suit, but your gut feeling turned out to be true. you and percy had dealt with a lot since then — a handful of quests, several prophecies, more than a few near-death experiences, a titan war, and, maybe worst of all, high school. you couldn't imagine getting through any of it without him by your side, and you knew the feeling was mutual.
so, you were entirely anticipating that percy would be hurt by your announcement during dinner. 
“no way that’s happening.” percy laughs, as if he can’t believe you’d suggest something as ridiculous as not having him accompany you on your quest. he remains unfazed, takes a sip of his electric blue coke before gesturing to the empty seat next to him. “come on, sunshine. have something to eat.”
the nickname sends your heart into a frenzy as you sit next to him. you and percy had never been anything other than friends, but sometimes....sometimes you look at his dangerous ocean eyes and wind-swept dark hair and it makes you blush. sometimes you consider the way his laughter fills you with warmth and his smile holds a thousand memories, the way he teases and winks at you and you decide that he makes your world so much brighter. sometimes you remember how sarcastic and thoughtful and loyal and reckless he is, his heart of gold and unpredictability of the sea. and you start to think that maybe possibly you'd fallen in love with your best friend.
that was not the issue at hand, though. you summon your favourite food and drink, but don't particularly feel like having either. percy returns to his conversation with hazel about how the two of you would drive up to montauk after you finally got your license, any time either of you needed to escape your reality, even just for a night. you'd sit on the beach, stargazing and roasting stale marshmallows and wishing to stay there forever. hazel seems to think that sounds like a nice escape, and percy promises that once the eight of you fulfill this prophecy, you'll all go to the beach house together, which makes hazel break out into a grin.
you can't help but smile at percy who loves his friends, who has loved you for so long. that feeling is quickly replaced by a pang in your chest that reminds you what's at stake. from the corner of your eye, you notice annabeth across from you, who looks at you like you’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. you're trying to hide it, but if anyone can read you better than percy, it's annabeth. she knows something is weighing on your mind. you briefly lock eyes with jason, who you had gone to earlier for help, from the other side of the room, where he sits between piper and frank. 
if you weren’t so distracted, you would have been able to enjoy dinner. the eight of you — all demigods of the current great prophecy — hadn’t been all together in a while, and it was nice to share a meal aboard the argo ii despite the reality of why you’d all been traveling together. leo had equipped the ship with magic plates and cups, and with the lively jokes and stories filling the air, you could almost imagine it was an ordinary summer evening at camp. you could almost forget that tomorrow, you had to go on a quest to rescue apollo and artemis from python, a monster so powerful your father barely defeated him thousands of years ago. you could almost ignore the impending war with gaea and the giants, and the doomed fate of the world if you were to fail. the one thing you could no longer ignore, however, is the gut feeling you have about the fate of the boy sitting next to you if your quest is to unfold the way you had first planned it. 
you clear your throat, an attempt to interrupt the group's conversations. 
“i was serious earlier,” you declare. “you’re not coming with me, percy. jason is.”
the smile percy had on his face fades. his eyes are filled with concern and disbelief, as he glances at you. “i – i don’t understand.”
"percy,” jason jumps in carefully, aware that he’s treading through dangerous waters like you had warned him. “y/n and i were strategizing earlier and it seems to make the most sense, given our powers combined." 
percy shakes his head. “but — but you can’t just make last minute changes. we’ve already got everything set. right, valdez?”
leo shrugs, swallowing a mouthful of chicken before responding. “i don’t know, man. i’m no expert in quests, but it seems like i’m not the one who should be deciding this.” leo looks at you, and you nod gratefully.
you've been on edge since last night, and to calm your nerves you fiddle with the gold chain around your neck. it was a gift from your father: a necklace with a music note charm that can transform into an electric guitar or a bow and quiver. thankfully, you hadn't had to need both at the same time.
“it's up to me. and i want leo and jason to come with me.”
“then i’ll come too,” percy's voice remains calm, but insistant.
“isn’t there that thing about quests usually being done in threes?”
“that is true, piper,” percy agrees. he tilts his head towards you, like he's calling on you to remember. "exceptions have been made, though. like that one time with zoe." that had been years ago, when demigods from camp half-blood and hunters of artemis joined forces. five had been sent out on a quest, but only three came back. you shiver at the thought.
"or my quest through the labyrinth," annabeth recalls.
"but won't that also change our other plans, though?" hazel asks.
"not necessarily," you pipe in, your voice more assertive. "if jason and percy just switch. no harm done."
"we're not interchangeable," percy grumbles.
"hera sure seemed to think so!" leo searches the room for positive responses to his joke, but the most he gets is a half-hearted laugh from frank. "too soon?"
you take a deep breath. "it's not a big deal, really."
"it kind of is," percy counters. "you've never gone on a quest without me."
"you've gone on quests without me," you point out.
"that's...that's different."
"why? because i'm so weak that i need the son of the sea god to protect me at all times?"
you're giving percy the coldest stare you ever have. he hesitates to hold your gaze.
"you know that's not what i meant," he sighs.
"then what did you mean?"
percy looks at you, his eyes and tone softer. “look, sunshine, let's just stick with the plan, alright? we can just —”
“gods, you never listen, do you?" you finally snap. "you're not coming! i don’t want you there, percy!”
percy stares at you, stunned. you look around the table, and everyone looks back at you, wide-eyed. they weren’t used to this side of you, your sudden outburst not fitting in with your usually sunny disposition. 
“well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” leo jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood, with less than ideal results.
“you saw something in your dreams, didn’t you?” annabeth realizes. 
her conclusion makes you freeze.
demigod dreams are always significant, carrying vivid images of monsters, messages from friends or enemies. some children of apollo like you had visions of the future — pseudo prophecies that are supposedly set to unfold given the path you’re on. technically, you weren’t supposed to share your visions, something about messing with fate or destiny, but that didn’t mean you had to accept the way things were. 
what you saw in your dreams last night, what might happen to percy, made your blood run cold.
you would defy all the laws of the universe and divine rules if it meant you could protect him. so fuck the path the fates are attempting to lead you down, and fuck prophetic dreams. you refuse to let percy die. no matter how frustrated you’re acting towards him in this moment, you know he would still do the same for you.
you figure that the future isn't written in stone, right?
either way, you're willing to challenge destiny for percy jackson.
without answering annabeth, you get up from the table and take a deep breath, carefully avoiding percy’s gaze. 
“i go with leo and jason, or i go alone.” your voice is steady, fighting the heavy beating of your heart and tears caught in your throat. “either way, i leave in the morning.” you exit the mess hall before anyone — before percy — can protest.
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biteofcherry · 4 months
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Drip
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stucky x female reader
Bucky Barnes x female reader x Steve Rogers; Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers
summary: Bucky and Steve graciously make your fantasy of watching them together come true. But it comes for a price. One you may have not be prepared for.
warnings: smut; consensual; D/s undertones; power imbalance; hints of voyeurism; blowjob; handjob; orgasm denial; a small dose of degradation
Masterlist
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You could never keep a poker face and you were rather shitty at being stealthy, so it wasn't a surprise that the two supersoldiers noticed the glances you stole their way on occasions.
They probably recognized more than glances, since you couldn't help but feel hot all over and clenched whenever you saw the two of them kiss. Or show any brief touch of intimacy.
Their relationship wasn't a secret, but Steve and Bucky weren't big on public displays of affection.
Around the compound they acted professional and sweet, presenting a healthy dose of love for each other. Perfect, charming gentlemen.
It only spurred your imagination further, as you spent nights in your bed with your hand between your thighs, thinking of how passionate they were with each other when no one was looking.
When they cornered you in an empty corridor, after you did a quick inventory of the quinjet post-mission, you had no quick wit to bullshit your way out of the trouble.
However, the expected lecture on being inappropriate (and perhaps relocated to a different post for making them feel uncomfortable and objectified) didn't happen.
Instead, you were invited to join them in the shower.
You really should've said no. Show them that your fantasies had their limit and you weren't a perv eager to become a true voyeur.
But there was something in the way they spoke to you that was coercive.
Steve’s tone wasn’t exactly an order, but it was shaped like an invitation you couldn’t refuse, or else there would be consequences (even if no threat was laid). 
Bucky somehow steered your body, so that you were already walking along with them while they revealed they’ve caught you staring at them on multiple occasions. They weren't a flirtatious types, but they were acutely aware when someone desired them. Especially when that someone was really bad at hiding that craving.
Embarrassment swallowed you whole, making you squirm as you padded between the two men. Then a rush of adrenaline and excitement won, clouding your better judgment as they asked for your final decision. 
If it was to be your last day of work for the Avengers, you would at least be an unemployed pervert who got to see Captain America and Winter Soldier naked and touching.
A currency no salary could match.
Though your bravado dispersed as you stepped into the showers few minutes later.
You felt uncertain as you took small steps across the wood-imitating tiles. The spa-like design of the compound’s bathrooms not working its calming magic at the moment. 
As you approached the two men, who were already naked and standing under the sprays, your own nudity and body consciousness made you curl in on yourself. 
"Are you sure it's okay?" You asked, stopping a few steps away.
You weaved one of your arms across your breasts, the other nervously around your middle as you squeezed your thighs. 
For a fleeting moment you hoped they’d change their mind and you get to run away to hide in shame. It would be mortifying, but less than actually exposing yourself and your reactions to them. 
Funny how it was supposed about you watching them, but turned into you being put into a more vulnerable position.
Somehow it skipped your horny mind that you would be naked and alone with two handsome, very powerful and overwhelming men.
Their heated, dark gazes locked on you made your heart rate accelerate, enhancing the sense of being the main entertainment of this whole arrangement. 
Suddenly, the charming, protective Captain and sweet, quiet Soldier were gone and instead you were facing the stifling flame of hunger of potential predators. It was more potent than what your needy imagination provided. Perhaps more than you were really able to handle.
Steve’s gaze slid over you from head to toe, so slow and intense it felt as if he touched you with his fingers. 
Your nipples instantly pebbled.
"If we weren't fine with you dripping down your thighs as you watch us, we wouldn't ask you to join us in the shower." 
Fuck. 
If he kept talking like that, in that lower, deeper tone, you really would be dripping down your thighs for them in no time. 
It was Bucky who moved toward you, taking slow, but sure steps. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pulled your arm away from your chest. When your breasts were displayed fully, you heard a synchronized purr of approval.
He guided you to stand between two sprays then pushed you back slightly, until your back hit the tiled wall. 
Some drops of water bounced your way, but mostly it was the warm mist settling on your skin in the little safe nook Bucky put you in.
A front row to watch the two of them just mere inches away from you.
Water cascaded down their naked bodies. Your eyes couldn’t catch up with all the trickles, though you so desperately wanted to study them all. Lavish with your tongue each contour of muscle and crevice. Trace the veins that protruded down their arms and just above hip and curving down onto…
"You like what you see, starburst?" Bucky hummed, forcing your gaze to snap up to his.
The nickname was something new. They always addressed you by your name. But you had no trouble realizing what inspired this one - they had to notice the small tattoo on your hip.
Swirls of gray in Bucky’s blue irises seemed warmer than ever before. His mouth was curved in an amused smile, making your heart flutter silly as if you were a teenage girl offered a flash of interest from the boy you had a crush on. 
Bucky lathered his hands with soap and he moved them across Steve’s chest, up to his neck then down his arms; stroking those sculpted muscles. 
You followed that movement nearly whimpering in despair that it wasn’t you who got to touch.
"He's magnificent, isn't he?" Bucky’s hands traveled all over Steve’s body, while his gaze remained locked on you. 
"Would you like to worship his perfect body?" He asked.
At your eager nod something glinted in his eyes. Bucky’s voice resounded with a dark command, even as his face remained softly serene:
"Then drop to your knees, doll. Worshipers are on their knees before their gods."
Before you fully comprehended the undertone of degradation in the latter sentence, your knees were already hitting the tiles. 
As Bucky’s fingers ran down Steve’s stomach then wrapped around the base of his dick, your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs as tingles of arousal pulled at your nipples and your clit.
"And that cock? Are you aching for that gorgeous, thick cock?" Bucky rasped, stroking Steve steadily.
Steve’s own hand was gripping the back of Bucky’s head, fingers tangled in wet, dark locks. Though his lips were parted on small, pleasant grunts, which he didn’t bother to hide, Steve’s eyes remained focused on you. Drinking in all the reactions showing on your beautiful face.
"Bet you'd love to run your tongue along that vein." Bucky moaned himself as he squeezed Steve tighter.
Your tongue seemed to dart out to lick your lips out of its own volition. Your hands moved, too. One up to cup your breast, the other diving between your thighs. 
"Are you thinking about it, starburst?” Steve asked, nudging Bucky’s hand away and taking a step towards you. Water washed out all the remaining suds off his body, giving you an unobscured view of the glory that was his cock. 
“Imagining how you'd cry as it stretched your little pussy?" 
Your little pussy clenched in fear and arousal at the thought of being filled with it. Even your bolder toys couldn’t compare in size. 
"And what about Bucky's cock, hm?” Steve’s hand splayed on Bucky’s hip when his partner came closer. 
With his other hand he cupped Bucky’s balls, drawing a loud grunt of pleasure from him. Then he ran his fingertips along the underside of Bucky’s cock, before fisting it. 
“Big and long.” Steve gave a few leisurely strokes. “Do you know how deep in your tight ass he could go?"
You weren’t thinking of it - of anyone in your ass - up until now. 
“Oh Stevie,” Bucky chuckled against Steve’s shoulder, where he was peppering kisses and licks, “I think our little starburst has been thinking about my cock up your ass all this time and missed the opportunity to imagine how it could fill her dirty hole.” 
Fingers still wrapped around Bucky’s girth, Steve angled his head to the side. His nose brushed against Bucky’s almost affectionately and then their lips were meeting in a sensual kiss. 
Forced to decide between watching their kiss and Bucky’s dick twitching in Steve’s hand, you let out a pathetic whimper. Your own fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit. Tongue itched to lick up the red tip of Bucky’s cock.
“I don’t blame her,” Steve rasped when they parted, “I love having you in my ass, too. Almost as much as I love taking yours.” 
Bucky’s soft laughter didn’t diminish the hotness of the scene. Quite the contrary, the intimacy of it that you were graciously allowed into was making you even more needy. 
Maybe the sinful beauty of their bodies was only a veneer of what you were truly craving. Maybe it's their deep connection and devotion that you got off on, dreaming of experiencing it yourself. Of being loved so strongly.
“Bet she’s thinking about it now.” Their gazes returned to you. “Look at those small fingers trying to satisfy her.”
“Cute,” Steve snorted, but then his eyes narrowed. “Who told you that you could touch yourself, starburst?”
“I-” you stuttered, feeling a wave of shame burn your cheeks from the inside. 
“Hands off.” He commanded and somehow you complied immediately. “You need them free to take care of us, little worshiper.” 
Your eyes widened as you stared up at them. When this whole event began, you were convinced it would just be a twisted little fantasy combined - you watching them, them enjoying being watched.
A hush little encounter with minimum interaction. 
Not only they broke down all the private space limits, but pushed it into entanglement you rarely even dared to fantasize about. 
They moved even closer; their cocks inches from your face as they looked down at you like the gods you made them to be. 
"Be of service, starburst." Bucky ran a single digit along your cheek.  
"Come on. We know you get off on not only imagining the two of us together, but also being with us. This is your chance to earn it."
You gulped as his finger touched your bottom lip then slipped into your mouth. For a short second, but it was enough of an indication how far they wanted to push it. 
“Show us how much you want it.” Steve rocked his hips forward, teasing the tip of his dick along your cheek. “How thankful you are to be here.” 
Hesitation in your movement wasn’t due to discomfort of touching them, but because you didn’t have much experience in the matter. Sure, you gave some quick handjobs and sucked dick before, but it all seemed awkward and poor quality to what Steve and Bucky deserved. 
Perhaps they sensed your nervousness, or maybe they really liked your touch, but the moment you wrapped your small hands around their cocks the praise fell from their lips almost instantly.
“Doing good, starburst.” Bucky stroked your head. “Just follow what you always imagined.”
At first you tried to keep the same rhythm on both shafts, but you weren’t that well coordinated. It didn’t matter though, as you quickly noticed each of them liked things a little different anyway.
Bucky moaned at the measured stroke with more squeeze around the leaking tip, while Steve encouraged you to twist your wrist.
As their sounds of pleasure grew muffled, you flicked up your gaze. The sight of them kissing and touching each other elicited another jolt of arousal; your own lips parting on a quiet moan. 
The puff of your breath tickled the angry red head of Steve’s dick, which twitched in your hand in response. It was all the temptation you needed to open your mouth and taste him. 
Your scientific knowledge wasn’t impressive, but you wondered if it was possible that the serum enhanced that part, because you swore the flavor of Steve on your tongue made you wetter. 
Hollowing your cheeks, you sucked harder. You couldn’t get him much deeper, your gag reflex was too strong to try pushing it at the moment, but you were adamant on making it as satisfying for them as you could. 
After a few beats you switched, swallowing Bucky's cock while you quickened the pace of your strokes on Steve’s dick. Every few moments you glanced up at them, feeding your own pleasure with the sight of them touching each other. 
"Such a good pet." Steve’s praise spurred you on.
Bucky groaned out your real name when you squeezed his balls while suckling on his tip. One of his hands landed on the back of your head, pushing you further down his length. He relented when you choked, but you suspected if encounters like that were to happen in the future, he would at some point deep throat you. 
“Do you want your reward, starburst?” Bucky pulled out, wrapping his own hand around his cock. 
Steve guided your fingers to massage his balls as he too fisted his cock. 
You didn’t expect arousal could spike even higher when you were already so drunk on it. But the idea of them cumming in front of you, for you, was like an electric current that sizzled your brain into mush.
“Yes, please,” you nodded eagerly, licking your lips.
“You can close your eyes, but keep your mouth open and your tongue out.” Steve instructed, his voice strained as he tried to withhold his climax a few more seconds. 
“Fuck,” you heard Bucky curse as you closed your eyes and tilted your face up, obediently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. “So fucking beautiful, little worshiper.” 
Slick sound of quick strokes combined with the rainy hum of cascading water and the unrestricted moans of two men. Even your own heartbeat seemed to quiet so that you could enjoy the sexy sounds. 
Then warm splashes hit your face. Landed on your tongue, but also across your cheeks and forehead, some dribbled down your chin. 
You waited with your open mouth until they were fully spent, which took more time than expected, before swallowing everything that landed on your tongue. 
“Good girl, starburst.” They swiped ribbons of cum off your face with their fingers, pushing them into your mouth for you to swallow all of it. 
Then one of them easily lifted you up onto your feet and pulled you under a warm spray of water. Though your legs were shaking a bit, two bodies sandwiching you between them provided support.
“Let's get you cleaned." Bucky’s voice was a soft coo in your ear as he massaged shampoo onto your scalp.
Steve lathered your body with soap, stroking everywhere and yet not where you needed it the most. Though satisfied with making them cum, your body was still thrumming with need. One you were impatient to take care of.
"Please!” You arched against Bucky, pushing your chest towards Steve’s wandering hands. You parted your legs wider. “Please, please, I-"
"No." Bucky’s tone remained calm, but his words were firm. "You don't get to cum. Not yet."
“Little worshipers think of their gods’ needs and wishes first.” Despite the degrading and condescending meaning of his words, Bucky made them sound like a soft, caring compliment. 
“And accept their fate, even if it’s to wait for their orgasm for eternity.” 
"You've been such a good girl so far, starburst.” Steve squeezed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze to meet his through the falling drops. “I know you can still be obedient and wait for the special reward. Right?"
“Y-yes, Steve.” Your heart pounded at the prospect of getting more from them.
Even if at the moment it was more torment than pleasure.
" ’Atta girl." He smiled. "Now let’s rinse you. Then you can go dry up and dress nicely. We’ll take you out for dinner.” 
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